After things got weird I got taken out by an obese guy and other nurses. Woke up in a hospital, which turned out to be a very strange week, surrounded by clues that I was going to get killed. I was let go by agreeing to an injected medication administered every month. Years later I changed to Zyprexa pills. I don't even have a doctor yet I'm taking schizophrenia pills by intertia since my mom is programmed to continue that. When I cut the dosage in half I start feeling like exercising, moving more, right now I don't feel like moving. My brain feels like it's rotting, akin to the covid mind-fog reports. I don't feel pleasure or happiness. I'm in a constant state of anxiety and self-hatred. This thing is killing me and I part of me doesn't care since it's suicidal, enjoying the punishment. My guess is that eventually I get out of this since nothing is permanent and evil is a caricature.